


Pen(ding) Revelations

by imagineagreatadventure



Category: Anne of Green Gables - L. M. Montgomery, Anne with an E (TV)
Genre: F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, Love Confessions, Post S308
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-12
Updated: 2019-11-12
Packaged: 2021-01-29 04:24:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21404155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imagineagreatadventure/pseuds/imagineagreatadventure
Summary: A veil has lifted and something must be done about it!Post S3x08~
Relationships: Gilbert Blythe/Anne Shirley
Comments: 30
Kudos: 341





	Pen(ding) Revelations

In a little farmhouse on a little island, a veil lifted, allowing a young woman to see a truth that she had long denied, her kindred spirit laying beside her.

** _“I’m in love with Gilbert Blythe.”_ **

* * *

Not far away from this little farmhouse, a boy was climbing onto a train. Perhaps not entirely a boy but not entirely a man either despite the engagement ring in his jacket pocket. Gilbert Blythe patted it once and then again, grimacing as he sat down. The train began to move and suddenly his childhood was gone.

And so was Anne.

* * *

“Calm down, Anne!” Diana said, desperately grasping Anne’s hands in an attempt to soothe her. Anne’s face was as red as her hair and Diana was frightened that Anne would combust at any minute -- popping like a balloon!

“How --” Anne’s pretty eyes bulged out of her head. She tore her hands away from Diana. “How can I be ** _CALM,_ ** Diana?”

“We can go to his house and --”

Anne interrupted, twisting her braid in distress. “He’s probably gone by now to Charlottetown!”

“Then we must go too,” Diana said, her voice resolved.

Anne groaned. “Marilla will kill me!”

“That’s quite enough, Anne Shirley-Cuthbert,” Diana declared, folding her arms. “You are the bravest, cleverest girl I have ever met. Don’t let Marilla stop you!”

“But I don’t have the money… and I won’t stoop to stealing from Marilla!” 

“Anne, don’t let something as silly as money stop the course of true love!” Diana smiled and Anne was immediately cheered. How could they ever let their friendship be so torn apart?

_Although Jerry…_ “Diana, what about your true love?”

Something like shame flickered in Diana’s eyes but she smiled again, although this time it was not as nearly as bright. “We must focus on you right now Anne! Time is of the essence!”

* * *

Gilbert watched the island roll past him, his nose almost pressed against the glass as if he was a child. _Or Anne, perhaps_, he thought, smiling for a moment before a sharp pang hit his heart. He looked away from the window, wishing he had brought one of his medical textbooks with him. Or a newspaper.

Or a French book. If he was going to the Sorbonne he should freshen up on French.

His throat constricted and he looked back towards the window. The sunlight refreshed the scene revealing his reflection. His eyes were dark and sad, but he supposed they had been like that since his father had died.

And since Mary…

He swallowed. “_Marry for love,"_ she told him as if that was easy. How did he know he wasn’t in love with Winifred? She was beautiful and clever and kind and fun and funny and he could love her.

He could.

_ Not like you love Anne though_, Mary’s voice sang.

Gilbert closed his eyes, hoping sleep would find him.

* * *

Two very beautiful young women (one with darling red -- _ or was it auburn? _ \-- hair and the other with hair as dark as a raven’s wing) waited at the Avonlea train station, their hair high, their faces powdered, and their gowns delicate. “Diana, I don’t know how we’ll get away with this. Did we need to wear your gowns? The ones for Paris? I thought your mother was saving these until you left!”

“Shh, Anne. If someone recognizes us, I’m sure we won’t be able to get aboard the next train! And how will we stop Gilbert from becoming betrothed if we can’t find our way aboard!”

Anne bit her lip and nodded. “You’re quite right, Diana, as always. You truly are so wise.”

Diana beamed under her hat but then her smile disappeared. “If only I was wise about boys.”

“I don’t think anyone is wise about boys -- including boys!” Anne said.

“I hate how I treated Jerry,” Diana confessed. “I have been so cruel to him. I have been so angry about leaving you all for a path I do not want to take -- that I am being forced to take!” Her voice shook and she paused, catching herself. “Sorry, Anne.”

“It’s all right, Diana!” Anne said, grabbing Diana’s gloved hand and pressing it.

Diana sighed. “I fear I took out my anger and fear on him. And on _you_ when we quarreled.”

“Do you love him, Diana?” Anne asked, curious.

Diana paused. “I--I do not know.” She grinned at Anne. “If it took you this long to realize you’re in love with Gilbert Blythe, I believe I have a few years left to decide.” Anne’s groan was overshadowed by the whistle from the incoming train. “Look, Anne,” Diana said, “we’ll be there before you know it, I’m sure. We’ll find Gilbert and --”

* * *

“And isn’t this such a lovely day, Mr. Bones?” Winifred asked her companion, dusting him carefully. “So bright and sunny. It makes you feel as if there is good news to come!” She grinned as wide as the skeleton before turning around and laughing. “Come now, Mr. Blythe, I heard the door open and close when you came in.”

Gilbert peeked his head in the room where Mr. Bones lived and found Winifred there, her blonde hair tousled into perfection, her white teeth gleaming as she smiled brightly. She wore something fanciful that Gilbert could not name although the dress was a beautiful shade of green.

It would have looked lovely on Anne.

He swallowed and tried to smile. “Hello,” he said.

Her smile grew coy. “Hello.”

“Is Dr. Ward here?” he decided to ask.

“Isn’t he always?” Winifred sighed dramatically. “Seeing to a patient. Do you need him for something?” she asked, her eyes sharp. _ Gilbert Blythe was not himself. _“Is everything all right?”

“I think so,” he said, trying to smile again, patting his right pocket. The ring was there, waiting for its debut. “I would like to take you out for a walk this evening… if that’s possible?”

“Hmm,” Winifred tapped the duster on her chin. “I suppose…” her smile widened, “I suppose that is a lovely idea, Mr. Blythe.”

“Ah, good,” he said, nodding. “I will see you at six o’clock then?”

“See you at six!” she agreed cheerfully, watching him leave. Her smile disappeared once he left. “Now what was all that about, Mr. Bones?”

* * *

Anne shifted in her seat, taking off her glove and twisting it every so often. “Anne, please be careful,” Diana tutted. “My mother will kill me if there’s a hole in it.”

“Won’t she kill you once she finds out what we’ve done!”

Diana grinned. “Quite possibly.”

“I must be a terrible influence on you,” Anne said, tragically, “they were all right about me.”

Diana laughed. “Cheer up, Anne, you’re about to live the romance of your dreams!”

“Is it the romance of my dreams, Diana?” Anne asked, relinquishing her grip on the glove. It fell to the compartment floor, Anne bending down to retrieve it. She sighed. “I never imagined this _ with Gilbert Blythe _.”

“Didn’t you, Anne?” Diana pursed her lips.

“I swear I didn’t until before the fair!” Anne said.

“Oh, Anne Shirley-Cuthbert.”

“I thought I wanted a black-hearted pirate or a beautiful prince or --”

“Gilbert Blythe,” Diana finished. She smiled kindly at Anne. “I know you’ve just realized your love for him, but that doesn’t mean you just started to love him.”

Anne swallowed, remembering Aunt Jo’s words. “Love is complicated, Diana. I don’t know what I’ll do if he’s --” Tears welled up in her eyes.

“Oh, Anne!” Diana embraced her. “It will be wonderful, just like in the stories.”

“I do not want a tragical romance!”

Due to Diana’s kind heart, the words that escaped were more amused than exasperated. “The other kinds of stories, Anne. Like Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet. The happily ever afters.”

“Oh,” Anne said, wiping her face with her glove. Diana shook her head, knowing it was a lost cause now. “But what did I do to deserve it?”

Diana let go of Anne. “Oh, Anne, what do any of us do to deserve love?”

Anne exhaled. “You truly are the wisest person I know.”

Diana grinned. “I know.”

* * *

Gilbert Blythe paced around several Charlottetown stores, debating about buying Winifred a gift of some sort. But wasn’t the ring enough?

Was a walk enough? Or should they be attending dinner together? Gilbert had never proposed to anyone before. The closest he had come was when he… saw Anne. Dancing in the firelight, her eyes aglow and alive in a way that he could not help but admire. His veil had lifted earlier in the evening when Winifred’s father promised him the world and the hand of a beautiful girl and yet… the only thing running through Gilbert’s mind was: _ I must ask Anne what she thinks. _

The journey home had been enlightening that night, his realizations that the dance between them was more than just _ feelings _ \-- it was love.

If only she felt the same but the surprise on her face and the babbling that came out of her mouth meant that she had never even thought of it -- it had never even crossed her mind to love him. He took his pride and his feelings and discarded them. He had to discard them to love Winifred. He would not harm Winifred by loving Anne at the same time, it would not be right. It would not be gentlemanly.

(And Anne would hate him for it.)

He pressed his pocket out of habit but the ring was still there. His mother’s ring. Would Winifred even like it? Would it be too plain or?

Gilbert shook those thoughts aside. Winifred never cared about his money or lack thereof. She was wonderful. His mother and father would have loved her. Her family liked Bash and Delphine.

It was a perfect match.

* * *

Anne struggled to climb off the train without trapping herself in her skirt. “Excuse me, sir?” she asked the conductor cheerfully, “Can you assist me?”

“Certainly, miss,” he said, holding out his hand to help her, then Diana off the train and onto the platform.

“Much appreciated!” Anne called back with a smile as she half-ran out of the station. Where would Gilbert be?

“Should we perhaps stop at Aunt Jo’s?” Diana asked. “She did say we could stay there when she found us putting on these dresses.”

“And Cole will be there,” Anne said, momentarily distracted from her mission at the thought of seeing her dear friend. But a man with a mop of dark curly hair walked past her and soon her thoughts were on Gilbert. “We will go there later, Diana, when we have stopped Gilbert.”

“Do you know where he might be then, Anne?”

“The only place I can think of is Dr. Ward’s but…”

“Winifred will be there,” Diana said, patting her friend’s shoulder. “We will find him, Anne, I promise.”

Anne’s heart was tight. “I am not as sure as you, Diana. How on earth will we find him before he proposes?” A thought struck Anne and she almost wailed out loud. “If he hasn’t already!”

“Anne Shirley-Cuthbert,” Diana said, her gloved hands on her hips, looking as frightening as Mrs. Barry herself, Anne thought. “We will find him and you will be in a wondrous romance. I refuse to have anything else happen.”

“Oh, Diana,” Anne hugged her bosom friend. “Thank you.”

Diana smiled and kissed Anne’s cheek. “Let’s find your Gilbert Blythe.”

* * *

Gilbert Blythe was deep in the crypts of a bookstore, desperately trying to distract himself from his upcoming evening stroll with his beau. Every so often he would pat his pocket and every time the ring was there. If he had been thinking clearly, he would have wondered why he was checking so often. Did he want it to be gone? But his mind was muddled and the veil had dropped back down over his eyes and his heart. He followed the trail of medical and botany textbooks, opening them and skimming every so often, too distracted to retain any of it. Perhaps the cure to death was in those books, but Gilbert Blythe wouldn’t have been able to see it.

Gilbert found himself wandering away from textbooks and back to the fantastical sorts of stories he read in his youth. **_Ivanhoe _**was sitting there as was ** _Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland_**, books he once adored. He left those as well and found a collection of Jane Austen sitting on a dusty shelf. He touched the bindings and wished he had enough money to buy them all for…

He swallowed and his hand fell. Perhaps it was a good thing he could not afford the books. Although, he thought, spying a journal…

“How much is this?” he asked the shopkeeper, grabbing the empty journal and placing it on the table.

The shopkeeper grunted a number and Gilbert smiled, pleased that he could afford this gift to Winifred. He paid the price and soon left the store, whistling.

He would go to a cafe and write in the journal all his hopes and dreams for their life together. Winifred would love that, Gilbert thought, patting his pockets in an attempt to find a writing utensil. The ring was still there.

And there was a pen in his left pocket! Success was his, he thought until he pulled out the pen. His hand shook.

_ It was Anne’s pen. _

* * *

In the end, they were beginning to lose their sense of direction. “Let’s go to Aunt Jo’s and find Cole,” Diana suggested. “He may have some ideas.”

But Cole was not at home. Anne sat on Aunt Jo’s porch and placed her head in her hands, feeling quite close to tears. “Face it, Diana!” she said, pointing out the sinking sun. “He’s probably already proposed to her!”

“Anne,” Diana said but feared her friend might be right.

“We might as well go home,” Anne declared, sniffing. “Before Marilla finds out and skins us both alive.”

“Unless my mother boils us alive first,” Diana said. “Oh, Anne, I suppose you’re right. Not about Gilbert!” she said, waving her hands in surrender as Anne’s eyes watered in alarm and distress. “But about going home.”

“Oh, Diana, he has to have proposed to her by now,” Anne said again as she forced herself up from the ground. This was very difficult as she rather wanted it to swallow her whole. “She’s so beautiful and he’ll get everything he’s ever wanted--”

“Except you, Anne,” Diana said. “He wants you more than any of those things. He practically said it himself.”

“But he doesn’t know…” Anne said, trailing off.

“The heart wants what the heart wants,” Diana said. She wasn’t entirely sure what the phrase meant but figured it applied.

“I suppose it does, dearest Diana.”

* * *

The pen was useful to have, Gilbert told himself as he sat down in the chair at the cafe. It was just a useful tool to use to write down his feelings for Winifred.

And yet he couldn’t stop looking at it.

Would Winifred even want a few pages of his feelings towards her? Gilbert was doubtful. He thought of the girls he knew. They would all think it _ romantical _that Gilbert was writing his hopes and dreams out on paper for Winifred. But they had a story club and they were led by Anne, the fiercest red-headed pirate on the Seven Seas.

Anne would weep if she received something like this from him, he knew, even if she wasn’t in love with him. She’d weep because that was Anne. She’d weep of the beauty and the consideration and the kindness and she’d write back pages and pages of literary prose that he could not imagine matching. She might also critique his work but it would be with a teasing smile. Perhaps he’d even misspell a word here and there just to see if she noticed and if she’d correct it.

Would Winifred do any of that? She would smile and tease and enjoy it immensely, but would she_ understand? _

It was nearing six o’clock and suddenly (_ finally _) Gilbert knew what he had to do.

* * *

The train ride home was unbearable. Anne was too miserable and sad to cry and did not want to ruin any of Diana’s beautiful clothes. Or, rather, any more of Diana’s beautiful clothes, she thought with a guilty look at her glove. Diana sat across from her, staring at the window with a pensive expression. Anne wished to know her friend’s heart and her secrets but understood now that Diana needed to come to her.

“We are almost home, Anne, it will be fine. Marilla won’t know a thing.”

_ And neither will Gilbert Blythe. _

Somehow Anne made it home without crying, after changing back into her clothes at Diana's. If she cried Marilla would _know._ As it was, Marilla was already plenty mad. “Anne you must tell us when you are having dinner with Diana!”

“I’m sorry, Marilla, but I was so happy to have my dearest kindred spirit back with me that we lost track of time and --”

“That’s enough,” Marilla waved, her mouth pursed. “Go to bed, Anne, we will discuss it in the morning.”

Anne rushed up the stairs as fast as her feet would take her, her feelings near erupting. Tears came first, then snot, and then a quiet wail escaped her. “I’ll truly be an old maid now,” she said quietly, her back against the door. After a few minutes, she stopped shaking, the tears ebbing away. “Oh old world,” she said, wiping her face. “Why have I lost so much? I am grateful for what I have -- for Marilla and Matthew and Diana and Jerry and Ms. Stacey and --” her voice caught. “And for Gilbert,” she finished. “But I’d like to be grateful for him in another way. I--”

A clanging against her window disturbed her prayer. Anne sniffed and pushed herself off the floor, curious. Was it Diana come to cheer her up?

The moon was out now, high in the sky, glowing like the electric lights in Charlottetown. She looked up and smiled at it before looking down to find…

Gilbert Blythe. He wore a suit that was too big but she still found him handsome. Something in his expression startled her and she found she could do nothing but stare at him in the moonlight.

He waved at her. She waved back, hesitating before she shut the window.

* * *

Gilbert’s hopes shattered as soon as the window shut. When he saw her open her window, still dressed in her day clothes, her smile brighter than the moon and the stars, her eyes as light as they had been as she danced drunkenly with their friends, it only reconfirmed what he already knew.

That he loved Anne Shirley-Cuthbert.

He stood there for another moment, debating about throwing another pebble but decided it was futile, turning away from Anne once and for all. He would not go back to Winifred but maybe, maybe one day he would meet another girl he would love like he loved Anne.

That was what he was telling himself when he was attacked from behind, someone with skinny arms tackling him in a hug.

“Gilbert!” came out muffled, Anne’s face pressed up against his back. For who else could it have been but Anne?

“Anne?” he half-laughed, half-groaned. “What is it?”

Anne released him, her eyes wide. She glowed. “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to speak to you if you are… _ amenable_,” Gilbert replied, trying to watch the look in Anne’s eyes. Something was there, it was dancing in her gaze as they once did in their schoolhouse, spinning, and twirling and breaking the lines.

Anne bit her lip before she spoke. “I am or else I wouldn’t be here.”

She wouldn’t be Anne if she wasn’t defiant. But while her statement could have come out coarse or angry, her voice was soft. Gilbert, feeling safe in his feelings (although he could not understand why) took her hand in his, his fingers twining between hers. A quiet gasp escaped her mouth. “Anne,” he said, his mouth dry. He swallowed. “Anne, I did not explain myself properly before.”

“I didn’t either,” she said, her gaze meeting his, her shoulders back, her expression etched in bravery.

Hope seized Gilbert’s heart. “I-- Anne.” He was frightened in a way he could not name. “I did not propose to Winifred. I told her we should remain only friends.”

Gilbert had expected many reactions to this news but of course, Anne did something very Anne-like and took him completely by surprise. She began to cry.

“Anne!” he said, alarmed, letting go of her hand to hold her shoulders as she bent her head to hide her face. “What is the matter?”

Her tears kept flowing as she looked back up at Gilbert. She was smiling and then he was too. She laughed and, without thinking, he kissed her briefly on the lips.

Anne stopped laughing once he let go. He was unsure due to the darkness but in the moonlight... she looked almost _pink._ “I’m sorry, Anne,” Gilbert said, “I shouldn’t have---”

“Gilbert, no,” she said, taking his hand with one hand, and touching her lips with the other for a moment. “I came to tell you something.” Her expression was very determined. “I am in love with you, Gilbert Blythe.”

So many words swam through Gilbert’s mind as sheer, blinding happiness overtook his soul but instead of speaking these words he took out the leather-bound journal and her pen. “These are yours,” he told her.

“That’s all you have to say to me?” Anne said, taking the pen and journal with astonishment. Her question came out as a high-pitched squeak. “Gilbert Blythe! I just told you I was in love with you!”

He smiled at her. “It’s all in there, Anne,” he said, tapping the journal.

“You really are --!”

Gilbert pressed his lips to hers once more and perhaps he would have done it again if Matthew had not come outside to use the outhouse.

“Oh, oh, sorry, don’t mind me,” he said, once he saw the young couple. If they could have seen him, they would have seen the poor man’s face turning as red as Anne’s hair. _(Although, perhaps, there was a smile hiding underneath the embarrassment.)_

“That was Matthew!” Anne squeaked. “Gilbert he saw us!”

Gilbert laughed. He didn’t care if the whole world saw them. “Read the journal, Anne,” he said as he left.

Anne could only stare at his back with continued astonishment.

_ Diana would not believe this! _

* * *

Gilbert’s journal was like nothing Anne could have imagined. She devoured it well into the night as he wrote about his family, his mother, his father, Bash and Mary and little Delphine, and how he wanted her to (_one day, Anne, when you’re ready_) to be a part of that family and that Marilla and Matthew were welcome too. How he saw them together as a doctor and a teacher -- or a reporter! Or a female politician or suffragette! How they could live on PEI or Paris or New York or Trinidad or the colony of New Zealand. He did not care as long as they were together trying to achieve their ambitions. 

He also spoke of his fears along with his dreams. Anne traced the ink with her finger, realizing with a jolt that so many of her own fears of insecurity and intimacy were reflected on the page. He wrote about how he fell in love with her as soon as she cracked a slate on his head although he hadn't yet realized it then.

There was a short story about a little girl who didn’t need dragons vanquished and another about a boy who loved _carrots._ Anne laughed despite herself.

_ What are your drams, Anne? _ Gilbert asked on the last page.

_ *Dreams _ was the first thing she did, correcting the error. He did it on purpose, she knew _ (he forgot the E!) _and smiled before grabbing her pen.

And began to write.

** _The End._ **

**Author's Note:**

> I have been in a terrible writer's block that apparently only Anne Shirley-Cuthbert can cure me of -- I did not think my next fic would be for Anne With An E but here we are! I am a huge AOGG fan and have watched the show for a while but this latest episode killed me and forced me to write something as we all wait for the next episode! 
> 
> I hope you all like this little story (and please leave comments and/or kudos if you do!) -- while I don't expect it to go like this, I wouldn't be unhappy if it did! ;)


End file.
